


Take Nothing For Granted

by CuriosityNox



Category: Assassin's Creed III - Fandom
Genre: F/M, Reader-Insert
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-07-11
Updated: 2014-08-14
Packaged: 2018-02-08 10:32:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 9,257
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1937565
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CuriosityNox/pseuds/CuriosityNox
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Broken down and cast aside, your life had fallen into a downspiral from hell. But what if you were given the chance to crawl back out of the gutter and reshape your life?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. I

**Author's Note:**

> Dear Readers, Hello!!
> 
> First off, thank you for taking the time to even consider ready my story! It really means the world :).
> 
> Secondly, if you see anything, absolutely ANYTHING that looks a little off, please don't hesitate to point it out. Be it it spelling, word use, grammar, or OOC. It can only help me improve, and I promise I'll love you for it.
> 
> I think that's it for now! Happy reading!

Why? Why was it that the moment most men were given a gun and a little authority, they changed into ravenous, violent beasts; lacking any and all regard for what met the butt of their gun? Should they not be attending whatever duties they were given, and not chasing and beating poor, starving, homeless girls through the streets?

This had been the third time this week. The third time they'd lashed out, chased you down and beat you senseless; leaving you nothing but a bruised, bloody wreck with a more than obvious limp.

The first two times you had had it coming. A street vendor had caught you trying to steal from him in the market place and called for help on both occasions, and this you found reasonable enough (though disappointing as it was). Now, chasing you off for stealing was one thing as even you had seen the fault in your actions, even if you were starving, but that hadn't been the case this time. This time you'd merely tripped over the heartless bastards feet. You hadn't meant to, you were just trying to find shelter for the night in one of the back alleyways and he just so happened to be standing too close to the corner you'd rounded.

At first you'd given him and his buddies a good run for their money; but luck, rarely being on your side these days, was quick to abandon you. You lacked the stamina, lacked the energy to continue on at a safe pace, and when they had finally caught up to you, God was there hell to pay.

Had you not already been in a weakened state, you might not have taken as bad a beating as you had. The butts of their guns might not have felt like they'd shattered every bone in your body, their boots might not have felt like they were coating you with bruises the size of cannon balls. Maybe, just maybe the insults they howled at you wouldn't have stung with as much truth as they seemed.

Eventually you were left to slink back off into the alleys by your lonesome; tired, broken, miserable lonesome.

It was of no surprise that the cold, hard brick walls showed you no more mercy as your crumbling, fragile frame slid its way down their coarse, unforgiving surface. A single, faint sigh was allowed to pass your bruised, swollen lips as the once light snowfall began to heavily march down around you in thick masses; almost as if to cover up the filth of the world you occupied. Snow was once a source of joy for you, but now? Now it only brought pure misery in its wake. Pure, bitter, cold, intolerable misery. What joy.

Curling up into a fetal like ball you desperately tried to warm yourself: pulling your collar up, blowing on and rubbing your hands together, anything to return the feeling, to rid yourself of your constant numbness. If you woke up without frostbite in at least one place, it'd be the closest thing to a miracle you'd seen in your lifetime. That is, provided you awoke at all.

Resting your head against your knees you carefully began attempting to massage away the pain growing in your left ankle. Swollen, definitely swollen. Potentially sprained. What fun.

Perhaps it was because the scraps of clothing you wore were intended for a man that they'd beat you the way they did. Maybe they thought you could take a harder beating? Or maybe they thought you a pansy, and it was out of distaste? Or a drunkard perhaps? Lord knew, but regardless they had no right to do so. No right to beat you down when you were already at the lowest of lows. All you wished for was a meal, a good night sleep, and to not be in constant pain for once. Was it really so much for you to ask to be able to fulfill basic human needs?

If it weren't for the deathly silence the onslaught of snow brought, your thoughts would have remained drowning in your self pity. You wouldn't have heard the soft crunching of snow a short distance away; not that you'd been bothered to acknowledged it. At least not until it changed from the sound of foot steps to that of a voice.

"What are you doing here?"

Your head poked up from its nest on your knees. Before you stood a man, towering, looming, staring intently down at you, or so he seemed to be. To be honest, you couldn't see his eyes beneath the pointed hood casting a broad shadow across his face, but you could have sworn you could feel them. It was these unseen eyes that almost, ALMOST distracted you from the rest of his white and whatever the hell other coloured getup. The current lighting (or lack thereof) prevented you from seeing the exact colour, but what you could see you definitely found a little… unorthodox.

"Beg your pardon, sir?"

"What are you doing here?" He asked, again.

For a moment you considered what an appropriate answer would be. And then disregarded it. Could he not tell you were homeless? Ah hell, "Dying. Most likely dying."

A displeased looked passed what half of his face you could see, though alarm or disgust you couldn't be sure.

"Then you should be at home."

"I am home." You responded, shooting him a rather defensive look.

"This is your home?" He frowned, "How can this be your home?"

"Well it is tonight. I've planted my arse here, so for the moment that makes this spot 'home'" You explained, all the while rubbing your swollen ankle.

"But there is no shelter here."

"Nonsense, I've got the edge of the roof." His head followed your finger in silence as you pointed upwards,"believe it or not, this is pretty high-class for my budget."

Laughing lightly, you offered the stranger a smile. You knew it wasn't smart to tell suspicious looking men that you were sleeping out on the streets with no other place to go. No place to run and hide, no place get away, no way to escape to if need be. But at this point, you'd take death from a nut job over freezing, your only request being that it be done quick.

"I hope you mean to tell me you are staying in this home then."

The moments silence on your behalf should have answered his question, but you responded any ways, "If that were the case, I wouldn't be sitting out here during a snowstorm in the making."

"Then why the mention of-"

"I was implying that I'm flat broke."

"… My apologies."

Well, at least he had manners.

"Nah, no need for them. I can't eat apologies, and I can't warm myself with them either. Best keep them to yourself, I appreciate the offer though." You could only laugh at the scrunched face he made in response. Crossing your legs, you pulled your sore ankle up closer rubbing it all the while. After a moment or so, he dropped into a squat in front of you, staring at the swollen joint.

"Are you hurt?"

"No more than usual."

"Usual?" He did not sound too impressed, "What happened?"

"Got roughed up again." You shrugged. It wasn't like you'd gotten used to this or anything.

"Is there any way I can help you?"

For several minutes, all you could do was stare at him with your head cocked to the side. You hadn't even learned this mans name, nor he yours, yet he was willingly offering you help? It sounded too good to be true. Eyes turning downward, you continued rubbing as the falling snow remained steady in its current assault. "Nah, I'll be just fine. You'd best get yourself inside though. You look sturdy enough, but even you could freeze to death out here, or at the very least get some nasty frost bite."

This gave him the opportunity to mock you previous expression. How could you say this while you sat in the snow with bare hands and feet? With clothes fit for warmer seasons? When he could clearly see you shaking; cold and in pain? When he could hear your stomach begging for food? When he could see and hear the life slowly escape your lips with every white puff of breath you gave? Yet you were telling him to go inside.

"Christ," you spoke up with a laugh, " I know I look like a shitty, filthy mess, but do you really need to stare like that?"

He pushed himself back up.

"Aw, now I was only just-"

"Wait here."

"Sorry?"

"Wait here."

"I-" Without allowing you to finish, he ran off like a thief in the night, leaving you with your mouth hanging open dumbfounded. "…you say that as though I've somewhere better to be."

* * * * * * * *

It took little to no time after your 'friend' had scampered off for your curiosity to run off with it, all feeling in your limbs in tow. At first you'd actually wondered where he might have been going, or when he'd be coming back, or most of all why he'd been dumb enough to demand you stay in your spot when there was clearly no other place for you. Either way, gone were these thoughts as frost bite slowly but surely decided to claim your libs as its own. Besides, what reason did he have to return anyhow?

Repeatedly bouncing your head lightly off the wall supporting you, you found yourself gazing up towards the sky. What started as a simple march of snow had gradually become a full out battle, charging down towards you like a bitter foe set on nothing more than conquest.

Truth be told, you were afraid to sleep. The idea actually terrified you to no end; the idea that you just might not wake up the next morning were you to actually doze off. It would no doubt be better for you, freezing to death in your sleep leaving all your hardships behind, but part of you still desperately clung to the notion that one of these days, things just might turn for the better. You didn't want to die, far from it, it was just hard to think much else was possible these days.

Feeling pure defeat, you sighed heavily.

And then you heard it. barely audible foots steps making their way through the snow in a quick, but stealthy jog. Turning and cocking your head, you stared in search of the noises source, and sure enough: there he stood. The crazy bastard actually came back to you,and in a blizzard to boot. But why?

You could do nothing more than stare in utter shock and confusion; you were frozen in wide-eyed astonishment as he came to squat down in front of you again, carrying a sizeable bundle under his arm. Carefully unwrapping the bundle, he set its contents on the ground before you. At this point, it was a miracle you hadn't had to hold your eyes in their sockets with your fingers. You quickly looked over the various things he'd laid out: bits of wrapped, preserved something by the looks of it, some bread, thick wool socks, a toque, all of which, astonishingly enough had actually been wrapped in a thick, cozy looking wool blanket. You were almost dead sure that in a moment or so, your eyeballs would either be sitting in your lap or end up caught in your mouth that was now hanging open in the same fashion as some grotesque looking gargoyle.

"What- what's all this now?"

He pushed the supplies towards you, "If you have no choice but to stay out in this storm then it would be wise for you to be prepared. You should at least have something warm to cover yourself with or you will die."

"I- I know that but-"

Carefully taking your feet, he slipped the socks on for you. "They didn't have any thing else to cover your feet with. I hope this will still help."

"I-I-"

Disregarding your sputtering, he carefully began to wrap the blanket around your shivering form. You could feel tears beginning to make their way into the corners of your eyes, and at this point, it was taking every part of your being to stop you from breaking down into hysterics. Food was one thing. On occasion people were kind enough to offer you food, but a blanket? A wool blanket? Those were expensive, you couldn't see the points marked on it to tell just how much it would have cost, but even still you knew the price would have been high.

"Wh-why are you-- Are you giving me these?"

"Yes." He answered, making your question sound like it'd been a stupid one.

"But- Why? I have no way to repay you, I have nothing to offer you in return at all!"

"There is no need for you to repay me."

Didn't need to? Didn't need to!? Since when did any one just up and give a homeless woman something without expecting some form of compensation these days? But he was just giving these to you? Free of charge? You knew this to be far too good to be true, and yet some how you could feel that it was genuine. This strange man actually sought to help you on this miserably cold winters night. On top of this, he actually managed to find, probably THE only shop open at this time of night, and God knows how long that had taken to find in the first place.

This act of kindness was entirely foreign to you. You were seldom looked upon unless you were causing some sort of trouble, be that intentional or not. Your fellow human beings didn't acknowledge you, they looked over you, disregarded you, pretended you weren't there. They offered you cold shoulders, not the sort of help he was giving you lest it come with a price.

You were considered nothing but scum, a societal scab leaving nothing but a scar on the streets you dwelled. Stealing when the need arose, loitering amongst the alleyways, occasionally begging when all else failed. You were nothing but a sad, sorry nuisance, so why?

"Why are you doing this? Why are you helping me?" The thick lump stuck in your throat made it difficult to for you to speak as newly formed tears carved little trails down your dirt covered cheeks. You hastily wiped your tears away, hopping to smear enough dirt to hide the fact that they were there in the first place.

"Because it is the right thing to do."

The right thing to do? He was doing this because it was what he believe was right? Of course, morally it was right, but when did that matter? Especially to riffraff. However it was this single act that made you reconsider your dismal outlook on humanity. Could people possibly be more humane than you'd given them credit?

"Is there not a better place you could stay?" He questioned, a concerned frown painting his lips.

"Not really, mostly just other alleyways. Although, I did try sleeping in a shed once."

He stared at you quizzically.

"Wasn't as great as it sounds. The owner was less than pleased when he found me the next morning and chased me off with a little more than kind words. Earned me another beating that time too."

"What about the underground passages?"

"Thought about that, though I must say I'm surprised you know of them. I can never find the damned things though, and this time of year always has me worried that I'll get stuck down there from the snow. They're better for the summer time, again that's provided you can find them."

"And you have no family or friends that would be willing to take you in?"

"Nope. Just yours truly."

This had hardly been the first time he'd heard of such a situation yet he still held a strong amount of sympathy for you. Just because it was common, didn't mean it was acceptable. "What happened to your family?"

"Curious one, aren't we?" You eyed him for a moment, looking him up and down, then carried on. "We were originally settled up North, but given the commotions down here my parents deemed it better for my fathers business. It's rather cliché, but my mother grew ill during the trip down and never really recovered. It wasn't too long after we'd settled here in Boston that she'd passed."

He sat in silence as you continued.

"It took time, but eventually business did do quite well and despite the taxes, we were managing to do alright. At least until the Red Coats caught wind that my father was helping the patriots. They warned him to stop several times, but he just brushed them off. Didn't take them long to arrest him. I'd like to know how many others got taken in for the same reasons, though it matters little to me now."

"What is it your father did?"

Most people would have reserved a little more caution; even if this man was on the same side as you, who knew who'd be listening around the corner? But what did you care? It wasn't as though you had anything else to lose. "Nothing too major, trading, making and selling weapons and whatever other supplies he could. Just trying to help out in whatever way he could really. Even taught me a thing or two he did, though nothing too special, not that I have use for that now."

"Is your father still alive then?"

"…Nah." He handed you a piece of bread which you happily began to nibble at, then after swallowing, you continued. "Not sure what happened to him, exactly. They took him and I didn't seem him again, that's all I know. I'd heard rumours, but who can say for sure. He was the type to go down defending himself, or some one else needing it, so I'd imagine something like that happened."

"You… have my sympathies."

"Thank you, I appreciate it. As with everything you've done for me tonight."

A simple nod in return, "What happened to your fathers shop?"

You crammed more bread into your mouth as you stared at him, trying to find those curious eyes under that hood of his. "I tried to keep it running for a while, told them I just intended to run a trading post with no one in particular in mind. They still sent many, many warnings my way though, but I endured, and kept it running for some time too. Sadly, the taxes got to be too much and I couldn't afford it on my own, nor did I have any one else to help support it. For a time I was still able to keep the loft I lived in above it, but even that got to be too much as I was unemployed and I'd used up nearly all I had saved to try to keep the place running. It didn't take long for me to lose that either."

"Could you not work for someone else?"

"I tried. Some people had pity but couldn't afford it, others were afraid it'd cause them trouble. Then it became simpler things; they'd use my gender as an excuse, or would simply say they didn't need the help. After a while I think it was more to do with my lack of good hygiene do to my current predicament."

Again he remained silent, waiting for you'd had anything else to say.

"Hell, I'd even considered selling myself at one point, but thought I'd hold onto the little bit of dignity I had left."

He nodded, seeming to find this to be reasonable enough.

Pulling off another piece of bread, you awaited his next question. It'd been some times since you had had a decent conversation with someone; it was uplifting to say the least. You may have wished it to have been on different circumstances, but still, being treated like a human for once was luxury you'd long since forgotten and you welcomed it back with open arms.

"You said you had learned several things from your father, did you not?"

"You ask an awful lot of questions, don't you?"

"I apologize if I am prying too much."

You gave a dismissive wave, "I'm just teasing you. Yes, he taught me a few things here and there. A few basic repairs, small crafting projects, and how to make some small trapping and hunting gear; though I think it's needless to say I've not put them to use in some time."

"If you had the means to do so, could you use these skills?"

"Might take me a bit to get back into the swing of things, but yes I would imagine so. Why, you planning on giving me a job, too?" You had meant that as a joke, but given the look on his face, this was not how he'd taken it.

"Possibly." You hadn't thought it humanly possible for him to shock you any more than he already had. Apparently you were wrong. He carried on: "Past the frontier is a small community. Day by day it grows, but it is still in need of many things. I don't doubt that any skills you may have could be of some use to the people there, or that we could easily find work."

Sputtering, your mouth opened and closed like a dying fish on land.

"They are kind people who would gladly take you in. It would not be hard to find you living arrangements either. I am sure any number of the townsfolk would willingly board you, and in time help you to establish a place of your own."

At this point, the bread had all but fallen from your hand. " There-- this is a joke. It must be! Or there's a catch! There must be-- there's no way-"

"There is none."

"No catches?"

"None?"

"None."

"You're joking. This is a joke."

"It is not."

Your eyes were practically burning holes into the places you believed his to sit. "I don't even know your name…"

"Connor."

"Connor…"

"And your name is?"

"It's [Name]."

"Would you consider my offer, [Name]?"

Consider? The man was offering you a second chance at life; a chance to feel safe and secure, to have friends and potentially a new family, to regain your lost dignity. He was offering you the chance to once again know the meaning of home. "There aren't any considerations for me to make. My only fear is that I wouldn't survive the trip across the frontier what with the shape I'm in."

Pushing himself back up, he spoke again, "I must leave for now, but in the morning I plan on traveling back to the homestead. I will come find you may travel with me."

"If I'm still alive by morning, I'm all yours."

With a faint smile and nod, he turned to leave. "Good night, [Name]."

"G'night to you too."

And with that he was gone, leaving you behind with the best possible thing any one had left you in a long time: a glimmer of hope.


	2. (Extra I)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Between chapter extra :)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tell me what you guys think about these little extras! I'll try to add more in if people enjoy them :)  
> Please enjoy!

What Connor found the following morning floored him. When he'd left he greatly hoped you would make it through the night. He had hoped to find an inn with a room but there wasn't a single one with any vacancies, the snow storm had seen to that. What he had not been expecting was the simple act of charity he'd performed had not only kept a homeless woman alive, but by the looks of it three - no four more little bundles.

At your sides he found three young children and at your feet a stray hound poking its head out from under the blanket. The five of you were cuddled about as close as humanly possible, all sound asleep as if you had no care in the world. It was a touching sight to behold.

Despite his desire to return to the homestead as soon as possible, the Mohawk felt no need to awaken your little quintet. Squatting down he pat the dog on the head then with the faintest of smiles, stood back up and he turned tail. He'd planned on gathering you first thing then heading out, but now it would seem he needed to go and gather a few more things. 

What mattered was that he'd confirmed that you were indeed still there and still alive. You were much sturdier than he'd expected; that or you really were that used to sleeping in horrid weather conditions. Whichever the case he'd wait until you were awake to head out. It was best to let you rest while you could, you'd have a long day ahead of you once you woke.


	3. II

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy reading :D!!

The feeling of something large squirming against your feet was what awoke you in the morning. With a slight jolt, your eyes fluttered open and closed in a desperate attempt to find the source of the disturbance. Shifting your good leg, you poked your socked foot into the wriggling mass searching for some distinguishable feature, anything that would tell you what the hell it was; and why the hell it was licking your leg. Licking. Licking your-- Oh right. 

Not long after Connor had left the night before, did three small children find you. The first had cautiously poked his head around the corner, then ducked back the second you'd turned your head his way.

"You don't have to hide, I won't bite." Life on the streets wasn't kind, but at the very least you could try to be.

When he emerged, two more children shyly followed after and with them a smelly, old, scrawny stray dog; sniff, sniff, sniffling away. Their desperate little eyes had practically glued themselves to the bread in your hand. Who were you to deprive them further? "Come on, there's enough room for the lot of you under here, and I don’t believe I can finish this all myself.”

And then there you were, one filthy little cluster of street dwellers. You had to admit, you were unsure if the thought of the children sleeping snuggled up at your sides was more heart warming, or heart wrenching. 

The mutt at your feet poked its head from the blanket you shared, ears perked and tongue casually hanging from his mouth.

"Good morning to you too." Stretching and yawning, you shifted yourself into a more comfortable position. Having slept cross-legged, you'd lost just about all the feeling in your legs; save the swollen, throbbing joint attached to your foot. Trying to turn it resulted in a pain from hell shooting up your leg, causing you to grimace. Yup. That was going to be a real treat to try to walk on.

Not wanting to awaken the rest of your little cluster, you cautiously shifted yourself into about as comfy a position as you could. Your new acquaintance had promised his return, and from what you had seen he was hardly one to disappoint. Truth be told, you found yourself all too eager to see him again and really, who could blame you? It was about damn time your life had gotten itself back on track, so to say you felt a little impatient at the moment was a bit of an understatement; not that you didn't feel guilty for mentally rushing the man. Out of respect for Connor, you pushed these feelings aside.

Luckily he also seemed more than ready to leave the city, as in less than a moment or so he'd returned with yet another bundle of supplies.

"You are awake."

"Good morning," you lazily smiled up towards him. It had been far too long since the sight of another human being had brought you this much joy, this much excitement. However you couldn't maintain these happy feelings, for the children gathered around you very quickly lead you to feel a sense of guilt and remorse. This did not go unnoticed.

"I am not so sure it would be safe for them to travel the frontier…" He had felt it too. 

"No, I don’t think it’d be safe at all…" you sighed, "and yet the idea of leaving them behind makes me feel terrible. They probably are better off here than out there… at least there's still a chance they could find work… more of a chance than I had."

You knew you were just spewing excuses, but in all honesty it was the truth. Children were small, they could fit into places adults couldn't. They could climb up inside chimneys, or down narrow mine shafts. Their tiny fingers could get in to fix things no adults could. It would be hard work, but it was still a possibility. "At the least, if it's no offence to you, I'd like to leave them with the blanket and what's left of the food."

He gave a quick nod, "I had hoped you would. You will need these then." He held out the new bundle.

"You're giving me more?"

"It is not much."

"'Not much' is more than I could ever repay, and a hell of a lot more than anyone else has offered me in a long time." You gladly received the gift, carefully unwrapping it in your lap. In doing this, you discovered a shawl and a short pair of boots.

"I do not know if they will fit you. The cobbler said they were a common size."

"… Can't remember the last time I wore shoes." With the widest grin possible, you carefully scrambled out from under the blanket (of course being mindful of the orphans and your ankle), then dropping right back onto your rear once you were out of the way. He watched you, the faintest bit of amusement dancing across his expression. 

Getting the boot onto the first foot was fine. On it went, then the laces were tied as tight as you could pull them. If at all possible, your grin widened even more; you were sure it was bordering on psychotic but hell, you were more than deserving wearing the smile of a mad woman.

“Does it fit?”

“Quite nicely, actually.”

“I had to guess.”

“So you said; I’d have found it odd if you hadn’t.” The second shoe was a little more difficult. Sucking a sharp breath in through clenched teeth, you slowly pulled the ankle of the boot over the severely swollen joint.

“That does not look good.” 

“I’ll live.” Being ungratefully mindful of the pain in your ankle, you tied the boot as tight as the swelling would allow. Cautiously, you wiggled your toes. “Forgot what this felt like…”

Using the wall for support, you pushed yourself up onto your good foot. This forced the reality onto you, that even while standing as close to your full height as possible, this man towered over you. Had he not been so kind to you as of late, he would have been terrifying. Now that the light of morning had illuminated the area it was no difficult task to see that he was tall, looming, armed to the teeth, and clearly… rather well built. He was terrifying! You should have been terrified! And yet, the longer you thought this over, the longer you stared the more at ease you felt. Was it still mildly concerning that his face was covered? Yes of course, but you found yourself disregarding yourself. Like you’d told yourself a number of times, what did you have to lose? 

You must have been staring at him quite oddly while lost in your sea of thoughts, because when his voice pulled you back to your senses it was laced with the slightest bit of concern, “Is there something wrong?” 

Shaking your head, you responded with a simple: “Not at all.”

Smiling, you picked the shawl up off the ground and draped it around your ever-so fragile form. It wasn’t the warmest thing you’d worn, but it was a hell of a lot better than nothing. You tugged the material as close to your neck as possible. It was still damned cold out, but at least the snow had subsided for the time being; this would not be for long though, the dark clouds hanging above promised that much. 

“We should hurry. It would be best if we can avoid being caught in the oncoming storm.” 

“Of course…” Your gaze shifted back towards the children,”God... will they be alright?” 

“I hope so.”

Hobbling back over to them, you pulled the blanket up close to their ears, and tucked them in as best as you could, “Be safe…” 

And with that, he began to lead you away, guilt nipping at your heels with every pain-filled step you took. Several times, you’d caught yourself looking back over your shoulder until they were no longer in sight. You couldn’t help feel like the biggest piece of shit possible. They really would be better off in town, right? “Please be safe…”


	4. III

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Silly reader, hay is for horses!

Your trip through town was… interesting, to say the least. The man sure as hell knew how to move his ass, that’s for sure. This proved to be more than difficult for your currently crippled state to keep up with. Several times you found yourself calling out, begging for him slow down.

“Connor, slow down!” 

“My apologies.”

“Connor! Wait for me!”

“Sorry.”

“Slow down a tad?” 

“My apologies.”

“Connor—!” You huffed, hobbling along behind him, “Connor wait a moment! You’re going too fast!” And without fail, he’d turn back and apologize, only to unconsciously revert back to his usual stride. You were sure you were annoying the man to no end, at this rate he must be asking himself why in the hell he’d let you come along in the first place. You really hadn’t intended on being a nuisance, but it was hard work keeping up with the man, especially given your injury. You really did hope you weren’t pissing him off too badly. 

Had your internal debate been the most excitement you endured on your way out of Boston, the trip might have actually been rather pleasant…God forbid fortune stay in your favour. As it turns out, Connor seemed to be on wondrous terms with the town’s patrols. It was obviously no concern to you, nor your tall hooded friend when a voice boomed out, demanding you stop a moment. In all honesty, you felt yourself shrink, half thinking he was calling out to you.

Before you could fully register what was going on, you felt yourself being picked up and tossed ever-so kindly into a rather conveniently placed hay cart. 

“What the— he—EY!!” You’d never gotten an answer, Connor had taken off running the second you landed in the cart. With as much caution as possible you’d poked your head out through the straw to find none of the men in your sights. “…Suppose I’ll just hang about here then…”

At least the hay was warm and surprisingly soft despite the odd bit poking you here and there. It was stupid. Very, very stupid; but within moments, you’d found yourself dozing off in your new found straw bed. You shouldn’t feel that tired, you’d only just woken up but hell, it wasn’t as though you could just wander off. Nonetheless, It took little to no time at all for you to be sleeping like the dead.

 



When he was finally able to shake his little group of followers, Connor made his way back through the bustling streets to the spot he’d left you. Mild panic had begun to set in when upon arrival there was no cart in sight, nor a crippled little homeless woman. He’d never show this panic, he knew better than that, but he still felt it. 

He had known you wouldn’t have been able to keep up with him in order to shake the guards, so tossing you in the cart had been the only way he could think of to keep you safe for the time being. He had NOT counted on the cart being removed so soon. So where the hell was the damned thing? 

His first impulse was to search the immediate area, hoping you’d be hiding somewhere awaiting his return; however you were not. Why the hell hadn’t you gotten out of the cart? Surely it wasn’t high enough up that you couldn’t do so without agitating your injury. Or had you gotten out? Had you been forced out? Perhaps he hadn’t been cautious enough when tossing you in. Perhaps you’d been arrested. Perhaps you were in holding. Perhaps you were being questioned. He needed to find you… and quick. Sighing in frustration, he began his hunt. Thank the creator he knew what he was doing when it came to tracking. 



Yawning, you shifted and squirmed amongst the straw. Why the hell hadn’t you tried sleeping in one of these before? They were much, much warmer than parking your sorry arse on a cold patch of cobble stones in some dank, dark alley way. You had half a mind to doze off again in your half-asleep state before reality gave you a nice, swift kick in the teeth. 

“Shit!” You scrambled your way to the edge of the cart to poke your head out. How long had you been asleep? Where the hell was Connor? Where the hell were you?! This was NOT where the cart had been, you were dead sure of that much. What were you supposed to do? Wait there for him? Where ever ‘there’ was. Should you look for him? Should you try making your way back to where the cart had been? Where ever the hell that was. 

This wasn’t an area you were familiar with, perhaps you were on the outskirts of town? The least you could do at that moment, was get your ass out of the cart and see if you could spot anything familiar. In an attempt to relieve the hay filled contraption of your presence you rolled yourself over the edge, only to find yourself plummeting the short distance to the ground. Lucky for you, your face decided to break your fall in the dirt, forcing a loud squawk from your form. “Oowww…”

“[Name]!” 

You rolled over. 

“There you are, I have been searching for you.” He spoke bluntly, but you could tell he was concerned. His hand was offered to you, which was then used to pull you to your feet when you gladly accepted it. “Are you alright?” 

Were you— “Me? I just took a nap! What about you?You were the one being chased! Are YOU alright?”

“You fell asleep…?”

“You’re not hurt right?” 

“I have dealt with worse things.”

“If you say so…” 

“We should go, I would like to return before it begins to storm. We are not far from the gates.” And with that, he began walking with you back in tow. 

“Shouldn’t we find or steal a horse or something?”

“We do not need to.” 

“We’re not walking the entire way there are we? I thought it was a fair distance? Won’t we get eaten or something?”

“I did not say we would be walking.”

“Well then have you got a horse in your pocket or are we going to fl— hey, slow down!”  

His hood prevented you from seeing the hint of guilt in his eyes as he turned back to see your desperate attempt to — yet again— keep up. With a faint sigh, he made his way back towards you.

“huh? Is something wrong? Connor?”

“Let me help.” 

“What do you—“ As he gently slipped an arm around your torso and the backs of your knees, the shock forced you to start blubbering, “N-now just— You don’t have to—“

“I should not make you walk on your ankle as it is.” He carefully lifted you from the ground.

“Y-you don’t need to do this. I’m more than capable of walking!”

“I am aware of that.” 

“Y-you can put me down.” 

“I will not.” 

“But I smell horrid.” 

“I have smelt worse things.”

“I’ll get your clothes dirty.” 

“They are already dirty.”

“Do you ever think of yourself?” 

“You need the thoughts and actions of another more than I do.” 

“Is this because I was slowing you down?”

“In part.” 

“Is this some habit of yours? Arguing with people like this?” 

“At times.” 

“You’re a mad man.” He responded with a disapproving grunt. “ But I’m glad. So thank you for being a mad man.”


	5. IV

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> They ARE demons! I swear! Show up outta God knows where, stalking you through the night, following you into the trees, but are they there when shots are fired? Noo! They're gone! Gone like the wind! Damn it Bullseye.....
> 
> Anywho. I'd like to give a thanks for Saber (@KenwayTheAnarchist) for the wonderful editing job! It was (and still is) very much appreciated! 
> 
> I tried to make this chapter longer, Cheese! Just for you!
> 
> Enjoy, kind folk!

A good number of choice words came spewing from your mouth when you heard a shrill whistle, and a horse then came bounding out of the woods towards you. Jumping in Connor’s arms, your first unseemly exclamation was something along the lines of “Sweet God damn Christ on his stick!” followed by a, “What bloody depths of hell have you crawled from, beast?!”  
   
“She was waiting here for me.”  
   
“ ‘She’ must be a demon!”  
   
“…She is a horse.”  
   
“She is a demon horse!”  
   
“Let us go.”  
   
“On the demon horse?”  
   
“Would you prefer we walk?”  
   
“Demon horse it is.”   
   
Before you could take the time to reconsider your options, Connor had sat you up on the beast’s back, and then proceeded to take his place behind you. “Sure you don’t want me riding on the back?”  
   
“I fear that in your current state, you may not be fit to ride without holding onto something, however my equipment would prevent you from safely doing so. I would not want you to fall off and injure yourself any more.”  
   
Fair enough. “Well now, aren’t we being the thoughtful one?”  
   
Spurring the horse gently, he began to steer her in whatever direction you were headed. Given your previous living arrangements, and having resided in town for many, many years, it had been quite some time since you’d been on the back of a horse, if ever. It was bumpy, bouncy and not exactly the most comfortable experience, especially given your assigned seating as of late; had there not been an arm on either side of your torso to secure you in place and guide the creature where need be, you had no doubt that your clumsy ass would have ended up pointed skywards while your face became well acquainted with a freshly made burrow, courtesy of your head.  
   
Connor remained silent in your trek and you found it in your best interest to follow suit. Besides, the last thing you wanted to do was bite through your tongue thanks to the kelpie carrying you along. Glancing upwards through the outstretched limbs of the bare, frost coated trees surrounding you, you’d realized that the rather dangerous looking storm clouds had finally begun to send in reinforcements for the previous storm. In what seemed like a matter of seconds, it was snowing so heavily that you couldn’t see an inch in front of you. The once soft clouds your breathing had created were long lost, fully enshrouded by massive amounts of snow assaulting your little caravan.  

“We need to find shelter.” He didn’t need to say it, but he was still damn right.  
   
“Agreed.”   
   
*   *   *   *   *   *   *   
   
Despite your best efforts to beat the storm, you were far too late and you were sure as hell paying for it. Navigating had proven to be more difficult than you’d anticipated. Eventually, Connor had been forced to climb off of the horse in order to lead her through the snow on foot; leaving you hunkered down, pressed as close to the beast’s back as physically possible.   
   
As luck would have it, you were too far from any settlements to seek shelter at an inn or something of the like, and as a result, Connor was forced to locate the nearest cave. There were no fancy words you could use to flourish it, as it was a cave; a dank, dark, dirty, musty cave; but, you were thankful nonetheless. At the very least, it did go back in far enough that the harsh winds and snow couldn’t find their way in and it was just high enough that you were able to remain on the horse while Connor searched around for a suitable spot to set up camp.   
   
It might have taken a few tries given the slightly damp nature of a cave, but Connor was eventually able to start a small fire using bits of scraps left by the prior ‘tenants’. Someone had clearly shared your ideas in turning this cave into a temporal camp. You sat quietly in front of your new found heat source, watching as the flame’s soft orange glow danced its way in and out of the wall’s many cracks and crevices. The heat, you swore, was melting your very being in its entirety, and you were loving it.  
   
It was strange to think of, but for the past couple of days, you couldn’t deny that your thoughts were constantly revolving around things you’d long since forgotten; things you hadn’t done or felt in what seemed like eons. Kindness, food, footwear, rides on demon horses, heat and even minimal comfort— all of these luxuries granted to you by the selfless man sitting across the open flames. There were no words to describe the amount of gratitude you’d felt, and you doubted there was any way humanly possible for you to repay him for everything he’d done for you, yet this still left you with an overwhelming sense of peace of mind. You hadn’t noticed it, but a soft smile had made its way in to grace your dirty covered features as you munched away at the little bits of food he’d yet again offered some time ago.  
   
“Enjoying yourself?”  
   
“Huh?” What was he on about?  
   
“You were smiling at the fire. You seemed to be enjoying yourself.”  
   
“Oh…” Had you been? “Oh! Uh sorry, I wasn’t— My mind was elsewhere… it’s been some time since I’ve sat in front of a fire… been some time since I’ve done a lot of things, really…”  
   
“So it would seem.” He stated, shifting into a more comfortable position. This movement sent the delicate orange glow dancing across the sturdy material of his jacket, which quickly caught your eye and forced you to take note of how nicely the tightly stretched fabric brought to light his rather nicely toned—  
   
“[Name]?”  
   
Or the way the light from the embers illuminated his deep, obsidian-like—  
   
“[Name]..?”  
   
Which lead you to acknowledge how incredibly inviting the light made his already warm, rich bronze—  
   
“…[Name]…?”  
   
Or how sweet, how irresistible it cause his every so slightly glistening— WHAT THE HELL WERE YOU DOING? What the hell were you thinking?! Where in the hell was that deprived mind of yours taking you? Did you need a moment to go sit out in the snow? Perhaps you’d have been better off that way… Honestly.   
   
“[Name], is there something wrong?”  
   
“…Yes. Yes, your demon horse had momentarily possessed me.” This earned an insulted grunt from the nag comfortably laying a good distance behind you. “But it’s passed now.”   
   
“I… what?”  
   
“When’d you take your hood off?”  
   
“When I— why are you changing the subject?”  
   
“Damn demon horse possessed me!”  
   
“I think you may need to rest.”  
   
“I don’t need to rest, Connor. I just need to rest.”   
   
“You— I just— Are you sure you do not feel unwell?”  
   
“I feel as one would feel after being possessed by a demon horse.”  
   
The poor man could only respond with what looked like an incredibly uneasy stare in your general direction, which became even more uneasy when you began to laugh.  
   
“I’m sorry, Connor,” you chuckled on,”I’m only teasing. Just wanted to see how you’d answer to that.” Of course that’s what you were doing! Of course you weren’t trying to distract him, why on earth would you do that? It seemed to be that a little bit of craziness was the price to pay for your little mental notations to go unnoticed. You figured it was now time to simply move on.   
   
“So…” You began.  
   
“Hm?” Thankfully, he seemed to have relaxed after seeing you calm down; you had to admit that this gave you a decent sense of relief.   
   
“I don’t really know… I just thought I’d try starting up conversation…”  
   
“I see…”  
   
“So… what do you do for a living? Are you a hunter or something?”  
   
“Of sorts.”   
   
“Those don’t look like hunters clothes.”  
   
“They are comfortable.”  
   
“They look a little tight.”  
   
“A little.”  
   
“Do you always give such short, blunt answers?”  
   
“No.” He responded in such a way that almost came across as offended, yet did nothing to prove him wrong either.   
   
You eyed him up, searching him up then down, not really paying any mind to him taking note or not. With the previous thoughts as gone as they were going to be, you were finally able to fully acknowledge the fact that this was probably the first good look you’d gotten at the man without his infamous looking hood. Staring might not have been the most polite thing to do, but hell, after how long on the streets? You could get away with it at least once. Your first observation was the overall manly, broadness of your newfound friend. His shoulders, his chest, his hands—Christ—even his face was broad. You also had to acknowledge that where he was broad, he was incredibly tan; especially given the time of year. This also drew you to make note of his sleek, jet black hair and captivatingly dark, ebony eyes. There was no way this man could have been of European descent, nor was there anyway he was a ‘Connor’ either, or at least this was what your observations lead you to believe.  
   
“You know…” With a questioning tone, you resumed your conversation.  
   
“What?”  
   
“‘Connor’ is a Celtic name, isn’t it?”  
   
“Perhaps?”  
   
“You don’t look much like something that’s crawled out of Europe or Great Britain.”  
   
He paused for a moment, “… Ratonhnhake:ton.”  
   
“Bless you.”  
   
“What?”  
   
“Huh? Oh wait that’s—Ooh.”  
   
“My name is Ratonhnhake:ton.”  
   
“So that’s why you’re a ‘Connor.’”  
   
He sighed. This hadn’t been this first time this had happened.  
   
“Say it again.”  
   
“Pardon?”  
   
“Say it again!”  
   
“…Ratonhnhake:ton.”  
   
“Again.”  
   
“Ratonhnhake:ton.”  
   
“Once more.”  
   
“Ratonhnhake:ton.”  
   
“Slower.”  
   
“Ratonhn—hake:—ton.”  
   
“Ratonhn—“  
   
“Hake.”  
   
“Ha—Connor.”  
   
“HaKE.”  
   
“Connor.”  
   
“You did not even try the end.” He hissed, though he did have to give you credit; you had tried more than most bothered.  
   
You smiled, laughing lightly at the man’s frustration, “I’ll get it one of these days, might take a bit for me to get my tongue around it, but I’ll get it eventually. I can at least promise you that much.”  
   
A faint sigh, “That would certainly be… refreshing.”  
   
“I’m sure. Don’t get too excited though, I’m still sure to get it wrong.”  
   
“But at least you will have tried where most do not.”  
   
“This is true. Tell me…”  
   
“Yes?”  
   
“What does your mother think about you using Connor instead of your other name?”  
   
“I do not know.”  
   
“She hasn’t said anything?”  
   
“I am unable to ask her. She… passed some time ago… she was killed.”  
   
“Oh…” That had taken you aback. In this situation most would have offered their apologies or sympathies, but you did not. He’d have no use for them, as no one ever did. They were words to be used when you couldn’t think of anything else, and sure as hell not words to bring back the dead. That said, you decided to move on. “And what about your father?”   
   
“Him and I do not speak.” He’d spat those words out with such venom, such ferocity that you were honestly surprised it hadn’t put out the fire between you. Leave it to you to try starting friendly conversation, only to sour the mood of your fellow conversationalist.   
   
“Oh…” was, yet again, the only sound you could muster.   
   
Again, he sighed, “My apologies.”   
   
“What for?”   
   
“I did not mean to make things uncomfortable for you.”  
   
“No need to apologize, I was the one to ask.”  
   
“Not knowing.”   
   
“Still.”   
   
“I should have restrained myself.”   
   
“No you shouldn’t have.”  
   
“Is it not a bother?”  
   
“Why would it be?”  
   
“I do not know.”  
   
“Exactly.  
   
“I am beginning to think you enjoy these arguments.”   
   
“Funny, I was beginning to think you did too.” Covering your mouth, you yawned lightly. “ But I must say, it’s a nice change of pace; having someone else to argue with that is. If it’s alright with you, I don’t think I’d mind so much if that didn’t change.”  
   
“You are a strange woman.”  
   
“And you’re an odd man.” Smiling to yourself, you pulled your boots off and sat them next to you. You then proceeded to slip the shawl from your shoulders, and after better covering yourself, you laid down, adjusting yourself in to as comfortable a position as possible.  
   
“Is that not damp still?”  
   
“A little, but after living on the streets for lord knows how long, battling the elements and chamber pots, I think I can handle it.”  
   
“If you are sure.”  
   
“Quite.”   
   
For some time the two of you quietly chatted back and forth in your little, fire lit safe haven. You couldn’t remember when you’d stopped hearing his voice; one moment, you were happily conversing with the man and then the next, you were fast asleep letting your body silently prepare itself for the rest of your journey.


	6. (Extra II)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry if there're any erros or mishap in this, it was such a tiny little thing that I just did I quick self edit so lemme know so I can fix them ASAP! But again, what do you guys think about these little extras? Like? Don't like? Don't give a rats ass either way? Let me know!! 
> 
> Also, recently rewatched The Scorpion King recently, and had to laugh at myself. The assassin setting off to kill them man aiming to take over the world to bring about order. Turns out I was into this assassin's stuff before I knew this assassin's stuff! 
> 
> Any who, onto the mini-chapter! Enjoy!

What a strange woman Connor had thought to himself. You had happily babbled away until you’d clearly become so tired that you’d drifted off mid-sentence (or what Connor believed to be mid-sentence any ways). Not that he was all that surprised, really. 

He could see the pure exhaustion in your eyes. You were at the point of breaking and it could be seen in every bit of your fragile form, but the man could do nothing but applaud you. There had been several times where he could have sworn you were on the verge of collapse —and honestly this probably was the case— yet you pushed forward with, at the very most, a ‘wait for me!’. The closest thing to a complaint you’d uttered was your accusations of the demon horse, but even that had hardly been more than simple silliness from what he could tell. You wanted this opportunity, this chance at a new life, and it was clear that you were willing to go to whatever lengths to attain it. 

You were a good hearted individual, he’d seen it back with the children in the alley way, and he could see it as you slept peacefully curled up before your current heat source. This was what had made up his mind. Connor fully intended to see you into the open arms of the little settlement he now called home, to see you back to health, to see you on your own two feet again. He only regretted that he would not physically be there every step of the way, but he knew you had more than enough willpower to do it on your own and should you falter, the homestead inhabitants would be right there to pick you back up. 

These thoughts satisfied Connor, and for a brief moment —rare as it was— his lips curled into a subtle smile as he stared past the crackling flames, “Sleep well, [Name].”


End file.
